Phagophobia
by FallingNarwhals
Summary: "Phobias: a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it." Rated M for graphic torture scenes, blood, and gore.


**Hey guys, this is important.**

 **If you are used to my fun-and-games stories, and don't like anything graphic, I don't suggest you read this.**

 **This is rated M for a reason guys.**

 **Graphic torture scenes, blood, gore are ahead.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom.**

 **{~}**

"Phobias: a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it."

Danny Fenton wasn't scared of much. Well, at least not in a way that would be considered holy-shit-I'm-peeing-my-pants-I'm-so-scared, but maybe some holy-shit-that-thing-is-huge-and-I'm-going-to-scream-because-DANG.

He would scream when a ghost scared him, for example, but not the type that would make him shake and quake in his sneakers. Ghosts weren't that scary, no matter how much they claimed to be. (He should know, his DNA was infused with the very basics of ghostly energy)

But there was one thing that scares him. One thing that would send him screaming as a child (And maybe even now). It gave him nightmares as a little kid, where on stormy nights he would hide under the thick covers because the branches outside looked just like those monsters that would, in his dreams, tie him to a sterile table complete with leather bonds that no matter how hard he struggled, he could never even loosen his grasp from.

And then... A... A thing of some sorts, with slick black hair and evil looking red eyes would take out a knife and slice open his stomach, and start eating him. And the worse part was that he was alive for every single pain-stabbing bit of it until he was nothing.

Jazz diagnosed him with Phagophobia, or fear of being eaten alive. She listened to every detail whenever five-year-old Danny would run to her, pounce on her bed and duck under her covers (Waking her up), and later cry into her shoulders as he explained his most recent nightmares (Which seemed to be from some sort of sick horror film).

He seemed to get over it, but slowly. It may or may not be the reason why Jazz was such an overprotective sister (And wanted to be a psychologist), but he seemed to get over his Phagophobia.

But this all came back to him as the older hybrid stabbed him with the Plasmius Maximus, the twin rods electrocuting every fiber of every single bone in his body. When it stopped, he could barely react as he was thrown onto a metal table, cuffs interlocking around his wrists and ankles so tightly that he started to lose feeling in his hands after a moment.

"Frootloop, stop it! Let me go!" He screamed at the shadow he could just barely see at the foot of the table. "What the hell is going on anyway? Did my mom reject you again?"

"Such a bitter mouth," Vlad responded by slapping a silver strip of duck tape over the boy's mouth. "But I'm sure that you will taste just as sweet."

Danny's eyes widened and he shook against the restraints, not at all liking where this was going at all. Everything about this situation just screamed "HEY LOOK! EVIL CREEPY WEIRDO SHIT HAPPENING!"

Everything from the ghost proof restraints to the long, sharp knife that Vlad was positioning just above Danny's diaphragm.

The blade gleamed in the dimmed light of the underground lab (With sound-proof walls, as you may have already guessed), the tip sharpened to the point that you can't just quite get out of an pencil sharpener.

It made Danny want to run away. Far away.

He squirmed even more in his restraints, the metal already warm from the close contact to his skin, and he kicked and punched. It was like something animal and ancient had awoken inside of him, something that he hadn't felt since he was trapped in one of those terrible nightmares that were about to come true. It made his pupils widen and his pulse quicken, but with his limbs trapped he couldn't do a single thing except scream.

But he couldn't scream! Oh no he couldn't! That freedom had been robbed from him with just a slap on the face, in which he knew he would never scream again, or say a "I love you," to his parents as he rushed out the door, a "See ya later," to his two friends as he dashed out to get the ghost, or even a "Stop it!" to Jazz.

He would never speak in understandable sentences ever again.

But any thought about speaking was soon forgotten as Vlad, no, that creature did not deserve to be called by such a weak human name, plunged the knife into his soft stomach.

Danny screamed as loud as he could, his vision running red with the sheer amount of pain that the one indiction had caused.

"Scream as loud as you want, Daniel!" Plasmius laughed. "No one can here you, or save you!"

Danny mustered up his darkest glare, his blue eyes burning into Plasmius' skull. Plasmius glared, and made his point by cutting a deep one, one that the twelve inch handle went in at least halfway, all the way down to his navel.

Danny's muffed screaming got louder as the blood poured out of him like an broken water balloon, and Plasmius reached inside his stomach and pulled something out.

Danny nearly would have fainted if he knew that wouldn't have been his last time awake. (Yes, he knew that he was going to die. He could see the malice in Plasmius' eyes that would give him no mercy or comfort.)

It was a soft and ropey looking organ, maybe a part of his large or small intestines. Plasmius held it up to the light, as if inspecting the quality of it, before opening his mouth (The mouth that was more like a wound on his face rather then a mouth) and taking a large bite out of it with a sickening crunch.

And then Danny screamed.

{~}

Um, ha ha.

I was bored.

Happy 4th of July


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